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Here’s my profile on FanFiction.net.  The prologue and the first chapter of A Few Good Elves have been edited and posted and more will follow at a rate of one chapter about every two days or so.  Enjoy!

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Escape from Borka (Book Excerpt)

Wildspace: The Spelljammer Fanzine

It was over.  The Champion of Clan Bloodfist looked over the flotsam and jetsam that had once been the greatest fleet in the history of the Scro Empire, shattered and broken like so many forgotten toys.  At least, they would be if the blood and body parts weren’t floating serenely between them.  His blood brother Corin, the clan leader, was no longer pouring blood from the wound in his throat where a stray shard of broken metal from their shattered rail had pierced it, but he was still unconscious and whether or not he would live or die remained very much anybody’s guess, especially since the healer was only Sarga’s acolyte.  Sarga was dead, killed when their primary helm was crushed by rough-hewn accelerator shot.  They were adrift in the Void, and all around them the noose tightened as the butterfly-shaped vessels of the Imperial Elven Navy Fleet, easily three…

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Weal or Woe (Book Excerpt)

Wildspace: The Spelljammer Fanzine

Shaundar trained his glass on the approaching vessels; and then he saw something that froze his blood in his veins.  He uttered a curse that would have blistered paint.  “Bring ‘er about!  Get us out of here!   Max tactical!” he howled, limping over to the mainsail to begin tacking.  “Dammit, Trevan!  Grimmauld!  Help me!”

Trevan just stared at him for a few long moments.  “Have you gone completely insane?!” he exploded at last.  “How are we going to get rescued if we run away?”

“That’s no rescuer,” he moaned.  “They’re flying the flag of the illithid.  Mind flayers!”

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Book Excerpt: Haunted

Wildspace: The Spelljammer Fanzine

Shaundar and Yathar stood with Sylria on Queenie’s Castle Deck, smoking cigars together.  They’d stopped smoking pipes because it was just too time consuming to load and light, and a waste of perfectly good tobacco if they were suddenly called into action, which happened more and more frequently.  The cigars were cheap and slightly sour – the best they could generally do on their Lieutenant’s pay – but Shaundar was becoming almost affectionately attached to them.

Supply lines were becoming more strained, too.  Occasionally, the alu’quesst ration was being supplemented with the human creation of grog.  Shaundar was not fond of it and generally chose not to have his allotted taut when that was what was available.  But he didn’t complain.  Nobody did.  That was just what there was.

They were in orbit around the Karpri space station, along with the burnt-out hulks of a Scorpion and an Ogre Mammoth…

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In the Hands of the Enemy (Book Excerpt) * Trigger Warning

Wildspace: The Spelljammer Fanzine

The following book excerpt contains scenes of graphic violence and torture.  Discretion is advised.

A door opened.  Shaundar tried to get a grip on himself at once; the last thing their captors needed to see was weakness.  His eyes blinked against the sudden brightness of the lantern in the corridor, but it was quickly blocked by an enormous silhouette.  Its owner was a scro; gray-skinned and huge, with arms like tree trunks.

“Ah, good, you’re awake,” the scro rumbled in a voice that sounded almost like a lion purring.  His unconscious echo of Yathar’s earlier remark was a little disturbing.  It was odd to hear the Espruar tongue in such a rough baritone voice.  “Maybe you’ll be more forthcoming than your friends.”  He grabbed Shaundar’s shirt and with one hand lifted him to his feet.  Shaundar was too weak to stand, however, and his leg startled him with the blinding…

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What Lies Beneath (Book Excerpt)

Wildspace: The Spelljammer Fanzine

Darmynes, the sun elf who owned the Gilded Leaf tavern, strategically located in an ash tree on the edge of Bral’s landmark Elven Forest, would have been appalled to learn that his back room, kept for “exclusive” clientele such as Admirals and distinguished Captains in the IEN, concealed an opening to Bral’s labyrinthine Underdark caverns, but he was far too thoroughly charmed to notice.  To be fair, he would not have tried very hard to pursue the accusation with or without the magic that afflicted him, because those distinguished clients were very good to him.  Take Captain Lotharvalis, for instance.  Hard luck, those burns, but he didn’t seem bitter and he always tipped well, and he never seemed to lack for female company either.  Darmynes approved of how he never seemed to let his unfortunate injury deter him.

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The Aerdrie’s Pride (Book Excerpt)

Wildspace: The Spelljammer Fanzine

All week Shaundar had been at the docks, lending a hand with the loading.  It was a mind-boggling process, keeping track of all the provisions, which had to be taken into orbit bit by bit in flitters, since elven Armada-class ships were incapable of landfall.  It was amazing how many things were required to feed the crew of a dreadnaught!  First there came the dried provisions; waybread, dried fruits, peas and beans, pemmican and cornbread (innovations of the green elves borrowed by the Imperial Elven Navy,) and these in scores of enormous wooden crates.  Next were the preserves; fruit preserves, pickles of all sorts, magically-sealed and preserved citrus fruits to prevent Sailor’s Disease, these in scores of slightly smaller crates that were easier to carry.  They were followed by barrel after crate full of baking and cooking supplies: flour, honey, baking powder, yeast, spices, and butter in magically-preserved containers.  After…

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The Needs of the Many (Book Excerpt)

Wildspace: The Spelljammer Fanzine

It was over.  The Champion of Clan Bloodfist looked over the flotsam and jetsam that had once been the greatest fleet in the history of the Scro Empire, shattered and broken like so many forgotten toys.  At least, they would be if the blood and body parts weren’t floating serenely between them.  His blood brother Corin, the clan leader, was no longer pouring blood from the wound in his throat where a stray shard of broken metal from their shattered rail had pierced it, but he was still unconscious and whether or not he would live or die remained very much anybody’s guess, especially since the healer was only Sarga’s acolyte.  Sarga was dead, killed when their primary helm was crushed by rough-hewn accelerator shot.  They were adrift in the Void, and all around them the noose tightened as the butterfly-shaped vessels of the Imperial Elven Navy Fleet, easily three…

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A Lady of the Clan (Book Excerpt)

Wildspace: The Spelljammer Fanzine

The Bloodfist summer home was really quite lovely, Ynga decided as she peered excitedly over the edge of the sail barge’s railing. It was nothing like the fortress in the mountains that served as the Bloodfist clan’s residence in Dukagsh’s rainy season, carved into the rock diligently over the course of generations; solid, stone cave walls and warrens that were imminently defensible, but gloomy. Those halls, where Ynga had dwelt among the clan’s unmarried girls her whole life, were ill-suited to her unseemly adventurous nature, and she and her twin sister Y’Anid had spent many hours, even days, clambering over the rocky steppes on whatever pretense they could invent; from overseeing the pepper and quinoa farms to inspecting the lofty rope bridges that connected one outcropping to another. Their excursions were never approved of, naturally, but their mother was the reigning Den Mother, and she defended her daughters’ right to…

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The Face of the Enemy (Book Excerpt)

Wildspace: The Spelljammer Fanzine

Cleaning up the mess took days.  Of the roughly 400 elves, humans and gnomes who had participated in the Battle of Leira, at least a hundred and fifty of them were casualties, which included Yathar’s axe slice because it required stitches, but not the minor bleeding wound that the goblin’s blade had given Shaundar, because it did not.  Half the city seemed to be burnt or damaged.  When the Scro Fleet had taken over, they had assaulted the city from orbit.  This would have counted as a war crime in the Elven Navy, and the perpetrators would have been court martialled, but apparently this was par for the course in scro rules of engagement.

Fortunately the civilian casualties had actually been minimal.  Those bunkers that Commander Aravel had referred to sheltered most of the populace, and much of the city damage, Shaundar later learned, was from the Orcish forces trying…

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